


Never Alone

by StrykingShadows



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Depression, Disassociation, a bit - Freeform, i just wanted someone to be there for my baby, idk they're basically me but gender neutral, it all depends on you guys, it's another playthrough thing, literally everyone is in it, nothing too major, suicide hints, they needed adult supervision, this can go inliterally any direction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-28
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-03 18:26:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5302115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrykingShadows/pseuds/StrykingShadows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You climb Mt Ebott with only one goal in mind- not to come back down alive. But then the kid shows up, completely alone, and you realize that they need help- especially as the two of you happen to fall into an entirely new world full of supposedly mystical creatures. Oh yeah, and they need at least one of your SOULS to be free. You swear you'll help Frisk get out alive- even if it costs you your own SOUL in the process. Which it very well might. Goody.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I fell into this trap. I thought I would be safe from the Reader/Self-Insert writing. I am not. And so I present to you, my OC trash (any romance is to be determined by you guys I will write it if you want it. I guess.) Also, my first time writing in 2nd person, so note any inconsistencies please.

You lean against the railing that guards one of the ledges that drop off into a sheer drop down the mountain, lost in your own thoughts. There really is only one feasible reason that you had climbed the overgrown mountain, struggling through the fabled path into disappearance. Well, a multitude of reasons that can easily be chalked up into one.

It's pretty easy to guess what that reason is.

Your hair blows wildly as the wind picks up. The sun is setting, casting its dying rays of light over the mountain. Mt Ebott is gorgeous from this angle, you realize. From the foot of the mount, the summit was dark and foreboding. At the height you stand at now, however, it practically screams adventure. You almost want to abandon your plans and start anew, beginning with a journey over the terrain. Almost.

You can't really feel much of anything at this point, though. It longing for excitement vanishes as easily as it arrives, leaving you as empty and numb as you were before. It's almost unsettling, how at ease you are with the detachment to your own life. How at ease you are with the thought of hopping over the railing and allowing gravity to do its work, dragging you down the rocky sides of the mountain and testing fate. You had heard of people miraculously (although that term is debatable) living through fool-proof plans. Then again, there's no one around to hear your cries to put you out of your misery if you lived through a fall down the bluff.

" _Better do it right the first time, then_ ," you muse to yourself.

The soft, unmistakable tap of footsteps approaching tug you from your thoughts. Surprise filters through your deadened mind. You look around, straightening up and stuffing your hands in your jacket pockets. You raise an eyebrow, tensing up in preparation to socialize. A small, brown head pops into view as whoever it is (evidently a child) makes their way into your field of vision.

_Wow, even more surprise. I'm on a roll today._

Narrow eyes widen as their dark, shielded gaze (one that you recognized well, having seen it often on yourself when you looked in the mirror) meets yours. They wear a blue-ish grey sweater with bold purple stripes on the torso that reaches down to their knees and sleeves that stretch past their hands. You can barely see the hem of a pair of blue jean shorts peeking out from the edges of the sweater. They look as surprised to see you as you are to see them. Their expression clouds in wariness.

You hope the expression you plaster on your face is one of gentleness and not of annoyance. You don't want to frighten the child, but you did have a goal to meet before the sun set. You can't do that with the kid around. Maybe the smile you coral your features into will alleviate the other's fears.

"Come to see the view?"

They nod and slowly step towards you. You roll your shoulders and attempt to relax, noticing the tremble in their step. They give you a look that says they can easily see right through your forced grin. You let it fall from your face. That, surprisingly, seems to put the kid more at ease.

"…What's, ah, what's your name?" You ask, glancing around for the child's parents. Adults will _royally_ screw up your plans. A small hand takes yours during your distraction, causing you to jump a little as your head snaps down to look at the kid's hand in yours. You shoot the kid a quizzical look as they begin tracing their finger along your palm. It takes a second to realize they're drawing letters. You shake your head, causing the kid to look up.

You grin sheepishly. "Sorry, again?"

The child huffs but begins retracing their earlier path, moving more slowly. A tiny glare looks up at your impatiently when they decide they're apparently done. You raise an eyebrow, trying to smother a grin at the expression through sheer willpower.

_(You haven't been this determined over anything for a long time. How sad.)_

"Frisk, huh? That's an unusual name." They shrug and you laugh. "Fair enough. It isn't like mine is all that common either."

At Frisk's imploring look you introduce yourself. They giggle and lift their hands, waving them around in certain formations. They make a C in front of their face with one hand, swiping down at the air before tapping the index and middle fingers together in a cross-like sign. You huff, crossing your arms.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, munchkin."

You have no clue what they had just said, but you _had_ taken the basics of sign language in high school. You rely on this near forgotten knowledge to attempt to convey a short question- since drawing letters in response to everything could take forever and a day.

You waggle your index finger back and forth for a second before touching your thumb to your chin, then your forehead. _**Where are your parents?**_

Something akin to happiness sparks in Frisk's gaze and their fingers fly into action. You're thankful that Frisk seems to understand your level of comprehension would be best in simple, slowly performed words. The signs are laced with melancholy.

" _ **Don't Know. They left. They're gone."**_

You frown, a knot forming in your chest. "Your parents just… left you?"

_On a mountain that people are said to disappear on…? That's not suspicious at all… Poor kid…_

Your stony expression deepens when Frisk nods, their gaze focused on the ground. Gently, you take Frisk's hand in yours. They look up, surprise flashing through their gaze. You smile reassuringly and their hand curls cautiously around yours. A small smile grows on their face as you kneel to be at their eye level.

"I'll look out for you until they come back for you, okay?"

You don't mention that you don't think the adults will be coming back for them. You can tell they already know form the look in their eyes. Nevertheless, Frisk's smile widens and they nod happily. You stand again, casting a look back at the railing.

_Can I really do this?_ You wonder. _I was so ready to end it, so firm in my decision that I would not be going back down that mountain… But this poor kid didn't sign up for that. I can't just leave them. I won't._

Call it child's intuition, or innocence, or whatever, but the gentle tug at your hand that draws your gaze away from the drop-off is exactly what you need to reaffirm your own convictions. Frisk manages to tear your thoughts away from the edge and, with an enthusiastic jab with their pointer finger, directs your attention up the trail of Mt Ebott. They run ahead a few steps, never releasing your hand. You raise an eyebrow, leaning forward to relieve some of the tension in your stretched arm.

"You want to climb to the top?"

Frisk nods eagerly, tugging on the tight hold they have on your hand. You smile and laugh incredulously, shaking your head. Frisk looks back at you, confused.

"Sorry, sorry, it's just- you get dropped off on a mountain and decide to climb to the top of said mountain," you explain as you smother your laughter. Frisk grins sheepishly. "You're something else, munchkin."

They tug on your hand again, though less eagerly this time. Their gaze is guarded. You grin and step up beside them, squeezing their hand. Some of the jadedness leaves their eyes as some of the hollowness in your own chest closes up. You begin walking and their eyes light up in excitement.

"C'mon then. Maybe we can make it a good ways before the sun sets if we start now." Frisk releases their hold on your hand and runs ahead, giggling. They stumble over their own feet in their haste but catch themselves. They continue to run. You chuckle as you follow, wishing you could be so carefree again. "Careful!"

Frisk beams back at you, giving you a thumbs up. You predict an hour or two before you end up carrying the child.

* * *

Okay, so they made it three hours. Whatever, you still end up giving the kid a piggyback ride up the mountain. In the dark. Yeah, the sun has set. Goody. At least it's a full moon tonight, and so close to the sky, it's almost as bright as during the day.

They drowse on your shoulder, almost completely still. Frisk isn't entirely out for the count, though, if the arms locked around your neck are anything to go by. You have one of your arms braced beneath one of their legs to stabilize them on your back as you climb the ever steepening trail. The other hand is used a balance, reaching out to grab anything you can to help guide you

The two of you have almost made it to the summit. It looms closer and closer until you can no longer casually glance up to see the top. A gentle tug on your hair draws your attention back to the child lounging on your back.

"Sup, munchkin?"

Frisk points off the trail, leaning over your shoulder. You follow the direction the child pointed with your gaze. You peer through the trees, frowning in concentration to see through the dark. Your eyes widen as you catch sight of the object of Frisk's attention.

A great, gaping maw of a cave opening yawns before the two of you. Relief floods through you as you realize you might have a place to camp out for the night. Frisk bounces excitedly on your back. You laugh.

"I guess you want down?"

Frisk nods eagerly and, once you set them down, runs ahead into the cave. Your eyes widen and you take off after them, your heart beginning to pound.

"Wait! Frisk, wait up!" Cursing (you wince as it echoes through the caves), you fumble with your cellphone, eventually tapping on the flashlight app. The light reflects off glistening, faintly glowing vines crawling on the walls. The beam manages to catch the tail-end of Frisk's striped sweater as they dart excitedly around a corner. You sprinted faster, dread burrowing in your stomach. "Frisk!"

_(There you go, now that's determination!)_

You whip around the corner, desperate to catch up with Frisk. Your gaze flickers up, barely registering the great, open room. All you can see is Frisk, wobbling, off balance at the edge of the deep, gaping chasm tearing through the ground not two feet around the corner you and Frisk had just barreled around at high speed. Much too close to stop in time before falling in.

Frisk looks over their shoulder at you, eyes wide with confusion and fear and _help me save me please help me_ as a stray vine catches their foot, sending them over the edge of the abyss. You reach desperately for their outstretched hand.

" _Frisk!"_

They say that time slows down in events such as these happen. In reality, it's more that you simply didn't even have to consider your decision to throw yourself over the edge after the child. You had climbed that mountain intending to die quietly, without any kind of fanfare. Despite Frisk's appearance, which had honestly made you rethink your decision, it looks like you were going to end up dead one way or another.

" _At least,"_ you think as you grasp the kid's oversized sweater and manage to haul the sobbing child into your arms, " _I can die attempting to save Frisk."_

You tighten your grip around the kid and twist so they would land on you on impact. You tuck their head into your chest so they don't see the ground rushing to meet them. Their tiny hands latch onto you tightly and they sob. You grit your teeth.

Frisk had cried for help.

And you were there.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You meet a LOVEly friend. Of course, you yourself are a rather LOVEly person.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took me so long I am so sorry you guys. I had finals and also my dad is hogging the internet. (Bleh). Extra long chapter to apologize for taking so long.

The first thing you’re aware of in a dull ringing in your ears and the scent of pollen in your nose. Every nerve of your body slowly lights up as if on fire. You can feel a warm liquid trailing down the side of your face, though your thoughts are too disoriented to identify what it is- although you know it’s bad. You also register the way you feel your ankle twisted is probably not a good thing. All of this is assessed with a calculated, unnatural calm. There was something important that you had to keep your wits about you for. Some _one_ importa- _oh, shit! The kid!_

“Fri-!“ Your eyes snap open as you shout, trying to throw yourself into sitting upright to search for- _oh oh oh owowow crap that’s so fucking- aaaaaah that hurts so much!_

Your call for Frisk trails off into a single, pained, scream, burning your throat as it rips from your vocal chords. As you sit up, your nerves protest loudly. Pain races up your back, especially in your lower spine. You desperately hope that it’s just a nasty bruise. Instinctively, you bite down on your tongue to distract yourself from the pain racking your body. Copper taste floods your mouth, half succeeding in drawing your attention away from the mild discomfort that is currently life. You sit, breath stuttering with your trembling, in quiet agony.

A small, gentle hand on your shoulder draws your focus away from your misery. Concerned, narrow eyes meet yours. A breathless, relieved grin crosses your features. “Fr...Frisk...”

Frisk smiles softly when you speak. The child’s shoulders droop as tension leaks from their body. They straighten up as determination takes their form. Slowly, uncertainly, they begin to prod along your body using the good old fashioned _does it hurt when I poke here_ method. You can’t help but smile as Frisk, with a serious face, begins to diagnose how bad your injuries are. An embarrassing yelp passes your lips when Frisk pokes around your ankle, your fingers curling into the golden flowers beneath you ( _ohmygodthey’resosoftcomparedto- okay that poke hurt)_.

“Careful, munchkin,” you croak, your voice shaky from your earlier pained cry. “That kinda hurts.”

Frisk looked over your foot once more before crawling back up to your side. They raise one fisted hand to their chin, their thumb lightly brushing their chin when they move their fist forward slightly. This is followed by putting their fists side by side and moving them away from each other, as if snapping a branch or something. Your addled mind takes a second to process the signs, but you eventually guess the meaning (good thing sign language is usually fairly straight forward). “Not broken?”

Frisk nods firmly, their hands fisting with two “claws” formed with their index and middle finger. One hand curls up, and the other down. They place the first joints of their fingers against each other and make a twisting motion. This one takes longer for you to puzzle out, and that’s less because of the sign and more so because of logical deduction. Because if it isn’t broken, what else could cause this pain?

“Just a sprain?” Another nod, this time with a small smile gracing their features. You grin triumphantly and Frisk giggles. “I’ll learn sign language yet, just you wait.”

Yet it bothers you how this young child can tell the difference between a sprain and a break...

You shove the thought from your head, concerning yourself with other matters.

“So... Where are we? We fell, then...?” You shrug. “I’ve been out ever since, I guess.”

Frisk stands (and you’re relieved to note that this is done with relative ease. Kid must not be that hurt then.), pointing straight up to the top of the cavern. You follow the instruction, your eyes barely able to make out a tiny pinprick of light above. You’d read somewhere that the naked human eye could make out light up to three miles away in pitch darkness. This is close enough to it, you figure. You turn back to Frisk.

“Guess we’re not getting back up that way.”

Again, the child points. You’re beginning to wonder how long you were out, if Frisk has already discovered a long hallway of sorts stretching from the cavern. Frisk steps out of the bed of flowers, headed towards the hallway. They turn to watch you expectantly. You force a grin through your gritted teeth as you gingerly press against the ground, testing if you can get up. You hiss as the tendons in your arms complain about the effort. You plop back on the ground A frown graces Frisk’s face as you quickly school your expression back into an easy grin.

**_Geez, this kid is intuitive_ ** _._

“I’m alright, munchkin. Here.” You hold out a hand, the other reaching out towards Frisk. “Help me up?”

Frisk nods, determination shining in their eyes, and grabs your extended hand in both of theirs. A strangled whimper falls from your lips as you struggle to your feet, your wounded ankle protesting loudly. Frisk, despite their best efforts, can only be so much help due to their stature being so much smaller than yours. Your ankle throbs, but you endure it to pull away from Frisk long enough to look over the kid.

“You okay, munchkin?”

Frisk nods, holding out their arms. You take their hands gently in yours and turn their arms over, looking for any major injuries. Luckily, the child seems to have managed to get away with only one or two scratches. Upon being released, Frisk shakes out their arms for emphasis, then does the same with their legs. They give you a small smile that seems to say, “ _See? I’m perfectly fine!”_

Which is good, because you clearly are not. Your legs are shaking beneath you. Frisk grabs your arm and drapes it over their shoulder, allowing you to lean on them as much as you dare. You spare them a smile. Something swells in your chest as they grin reassuringly at you.

_(Wow, feeling again? Been a while, hasn’t it?)_

You shake your head a little, dismissing the thought. No need to be self-depreciating here. You glance back down at Frisk to find them watching you with concern (and maybe a bit of something else in their eyes. Wariness?)

“What’s up, kiddo?”

They shake their head, instead preferring to begin moving. They stick to your pace as you limp down the hallway, your resolve slowly vanishing as you realize just how long the hallway is. Every muscle in your body is screaming at you, digging in their heels and begging with you to stop and give up because _hoooooooly fucking shit it hurts so badly fuck why are we moving anyways there’s no need for this I guess maybe we can find water or something but owowowow!_

Tiny fingers curl around yours. You look down, meeting a firm, hopeful gaze.

It fills you with determination.

You compromise with your body and take your time down the hallway. Frisk guides you patiently, but their face slowly crumples into some kind of resolve as you near the end of the hall and turn into the next “room”, a large, open cavern. Only a single spot in the room is illuminated, decorated with a patch of lush grass. The shadows surrounding the “spotlight” make you nervous.

“Howdy!”

You scream (rather embarrassingly), as a small golden head pops up from the grass. A wide friendly smile stretches across the surface of what you suppose is its (his?) face, though it falters, accompanied by a raised eyebrow, at your undignified squawk. Frisk giggles at your reaction, seemingly nonchalant with the talking flower. Their tight grip on your hand would beg to differ, however. Something bothers you about the look in their gaze. Then again, it is a _talking flower_ but it’s…

**_Almost as if they’re scared… of a flower?_ **

_(This, from you? You just shrieked at the sight of him.)_

Okay, you’ll give yourself that one.

Wait. You’re arguing with yourself?

_(There really are more pressing matters than this.)_

**_More pressing matters than voices in my head? I don’t think-_ **

“I’m Flowey! Flowey the Flower!” The flower’s voice is tinny, a little. Echo-ey? Ish? You have no real clue how to describe it. But it’s high pitched, and kind of reminds you of a little kid’s voice on the recordings in haunted houses. His head tilts and he seems to study you and Frisk. He grins sympathetically. “You two must be new to the Underground, aren’tcha? Golly,” he seems to be _tsk_ ing you. You hate _tsk_ ing. It was so… _pompous._ “You must be so confused.”

“A little, yeah.” You lay a hand on top of Frisk’s head. Flowey _(What a ridiculous name.)_ frowns in thought.

“Someone ought to teach you how things work around here!” Flowey seems to brighten. “I guess little old me will have to do!”

Something jerks in your chest and your heart jumps straight out of your chest. Literally. It just pops out of your chest. Like a daisy ( _or a buttercup)._ Two hearts float in midair before you- one a bright, vibrant, red and one, the slightly larger one in front of you, a very dark blue, though it’s tinted with grey. Each emanate a faint glow, bobbing slightly in the air.

_(Not good.)_

Frisk’s hold on your hand tightens. You look down to see their eyes wide, locked on the hearts, their little chest heaving in hyperventilation. _Something_ propels you to shift in front of them, an overwhelming desire to protect the child swelling within you. The blue heart shifts accordingly to cover the smaller red one.

“Ready? Here we go!”

The world spins slightly as the lights shut off, save for a little area around Flowey and the hearts. Said hearts are encased in a box of white, preventing them from leaving the area. Flowey grins cheerfully.

“See that heart?” **_(Nope, totally missed it.)_** “That is your SOUL! That is the very culmination of your being!”

You tilt your head, swaying a little in a small test. You heart- _(no, your SOUL, stupid, weren’t you listening?)_ \- bobs back in forth in time to your movements. Something tells you that this is going to be one exhausting adventure. Frisk latches onto your leg, drawing your attention down. They point to Flowey, who looks vaguely annoyed that you aren’t listening to him.

“…Sorry?” You offer, grinning sheepishly.

It takes a second, but Flowey twists his expression back into his grin. “That’s okay! I’m sure this is all new to you, right?” He doesn’t give you a chance to respond, instead diving right back into his SOUL spiel. “Your SOUL starts off weak, but can grow strong if you gain a lot of LV!”

At this point you notice numbers in the corners of the box. The corner closest to you reads some basic, um, you guess they’re statistics. There’s some in Frisk’s corner, too, but the only things you can see clearly is an HP bar. It’s full. Yours is… not.

**HP: 5/30**

**AT: 5**

**DF: 10**

**LV: 2**

**_LV? Level? Like a video game? But your level only raises when you… shit._** Your heart, your _real_ heart _,_ pounds in your chest. You were supposed to have been leaving your past behind at the foot of that mountain, dammit!

 _(Listen.)_ Your head companion sounds thrilled. Over what, you’re not sure. You are most certainly not happy.

Flowey seems to read your mind or something. Probably just your expression. “What’s LV stand for? Why LOVE, of course!”

**_Doesn’t seem too bad, then…_ **

You glance down at Frisk, who’s relaxed their hold on your leg a bit. They’re staring at Flowey with a focused expression. The flower only grins. “You want some LOVE, don’t you? Don’t worry, I’ll share some with you!”

He winks, sticking out his tongue. You swear you see a little anime star flake off of the wink. Little, spinning seeds rise into the air around Flowey. “Down here, LOVE is shared through… little white… ‘friendliness pellets’.”

You get a sense of incredulity from your head companion. _(What is he_ on _?!)_

“Are you ready?” Frisk shuffles away from your leg a bit. Their little red heart follows suit. The seeds start to approach Frisk. Flowey beams. “Move around! Get as many as you can!”

The pellets approach Frisk’s SOUL, and something in you _screams_ at you. You’re not even aware of what you’re doing before you’re dragging Frisk, and, consequently, their SOUL, back behind you. The pellets strike your SOUL dead on.

Someone, maybe two someones, and you think one is you, maybe, you don’t know, but there's screaming, but you can’t think, all you can see is the numbers flashing right before your eyes.

**HP: 1/30**

**LV: 1**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I usually don’t drop these here, since I think it takes away from the impact of the last line and all, but I have something to ask of you guys and I didn’t want to spoil the chapter. Right now, I have The Head Companion speaking with italics within parentheses. I’m not entirely satisfied with that since now, when I wanted to signify the reader and THC speaking together, I had to do bold and italicize within parentheses. So I’m having to bold to signify Reader’s thoughts. I don’t really like bolding in a story for some reason (unless it’s like a sign or something). It’s just a weird thing of mine. Anyways, I just wanted to ask your opinions and take your suggestions on what to do. See you later guys!

**Author's Note:**

> If you have questions or simply want updates on my writings or to simply listen to my randomness, then check out my tumblr: http://shadowstryker.tumblr.com/ . Have a nice day!


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